


The world is brighter than the sun (now that you're here)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Childbirth, Children, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Twins, Yoga, pregnant!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 08:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry gets knocked up with twins! This is his and Louis' story of multiples parenthood





	The world is brighter than the sun (now that you're here)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelseafrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/gifts).



> Sorry this took so damn long! Much love to the admins who showed such patience and kindness. I didn't manage to fit in everything you wanted but I tried!

 

  
This was it.

 

Crazy. Beautiful. Stupid. Wonderful.

 

Two thin pink lines stared up at Harry from the pregnancy test he clutched. Positive. Definitively positive in an utterly quantifiable state. Harry had never felt so insignificant and important at the same time. Millions of people had children. But these were to be his. His and Louis’. He squeaked and immediately fumbled for his mobile, snapping a photo and sending it to Louis with about 50 exclamation marks. 

 

He soon received a phone call, with Louis just repeating: “Are you certain? For fucking real? Like- you're positive?” until he'd had enough and snapped a firm yes, Louis shutting up real quick after that. Whoops.

 

“Yes, Louis. I told you I had a funny feeling! I know we didn't get knocked up from the Ibiza trip, but maybe this was how it was meant to go all along?”

 

Harry was referring to their disaster of a trip to the most beautiful resort he'd ever been to. It had been one failure after another after another. Booked the hotel a day late by accident, delayed flight, a tropical storm hit 3 days in… then the icing on the cake was Louis  _ breaking  _ his foot. They'd come home cranky, exhausted, and decidedly not expecting. Apparently the celebratory  _ we’re home!  _ sex had done the trick, though. Or maybe the  _ oh yeah you’re not hobbling anymore  _ fucks. Harry wasn't entirely sure- but. He was definitely knocked up.

  
“Well! Fuck! I'll be home in 15? Stay still, don't do shit, I need to take 5,000 photos to immortalized this moment forever. Make an appointment with Dr. Tierney too. Just to check things out, make extra certain. Okay? Don't move a muscle!” Louis hung up abruptly, and Harry snorted affectionately with soft eyes, gently setting the pregnancy test down on the counter with a groan. It wasn't an upset sound, though. It was more… a release. He felt so free. So happy. So  _ ready.  _

 

A child. Their child. His heart stuttered, and Harry teared up. Hormones already? For Christ’s sake. He was so fucked. 

 

“Harry!” He startled from his contemplative reverie with a gasp, almost falling off the sink. Louis, his husband, his world, came in, and Harry squeaked as he jumped into his arms. 

 

“Louis! A baby! Our baby!” They dissolved into a big cuddly hug, peppering kisses and compliments on each other like the sappiest of saps they were. Eventually, they withdrew, looking at each other almost shyly.

 

Louis and Harry took about a million photographs to document the occasion, then settled down for dinner. They got the absolute confirmation they wanted two weeks later, as well as the suggestion there were actually  _ two  _ babies.

 

~~

 

“... Wait, what?” Harry blurted out anxiously at the irregular thumping heartbeat that filled the room. “That’s not the sound I heard online for what it's supposed to be, Doctor! What's wrong?” Harry'd been on his way to tears already, crying freely as he cupped his flat tummy protectively. If he focused just enough he was sure there was a bump. His little bean.

 

Louis hovered protectively, staring at the doctor accusatorily. Dr. Tierney put up her hands and smiled faintly. “No tears, please. It's wonderful news. You have  _ two  _ healthy heartbeats beating in slightly different rhythms. Congratulations!”

 

So. That was that. Louis drank about three shots in a row as soon as they were home, staring at the tiniest of bodies outlined on their printout of the sonogram- then swallowed thickly, smiled- and perked up. “Twins, Hazza,” he sighed softly, taking Harry's hands and then laying them tenderly on his tiny belly. And that… was that. They were ready to face pregnancy, life after, the world, with not just one, but two children. At the same time.

 

Oh. God. Whatever, they got this. Challenge accepted.

 

~~

 

That worked well enough, until morning sickness decided to slam into Harry with the same force as a fucking freight train. He spent 3 weeks hovering by toilets and trash cans, the slightest hint of anything greasy or fishy or vaguely pungent sending him to kneel and pray before the porcelain goddess. He was sick as a dog for an entire month, and he could only plead stomach flu and food poisoning and gastrointestinal diseases to try and keep it all under wraps. Everybody had figured out what was  _ really  _ going on before he actually announced it, nobody at all surprised but nonetheless very happy and thrilled about the news. Everybody knew that Harry and Lois had been trying for a baby for almost a year now- and now they were having two.

 

Anne cried nonstop and Jay offered so many parenting books and blogs and good advice Harry felt nearly overwhelmed by it all, frankly. In a good way. Family support meant so much to him it was almost ridiculous. And now it felt like people were crawling out of the goddamn woodworks to congratulate him and Louis. 

 

The nausea thankfully tapered off heading into later months, and his belly was actually beginning to properly start to  _ bump  _ by then, thanks to the fact there were two little kiwis fucking around in there. Harry was eternally and completely grateful for it. He started living in a more health conscious sort of way, too, Louis dragging his heels at first before begrudgingly giving into the kale quiches and quinoa with gently seared chicken. His cravings were, blessedly, mostly fresh fruit and a few odder things, like tahini, or the fries from one specific tiny mum-and-pop place on Main Street.

 

It was a semi peaceful time- at least until the quickening.

 

Harry was asleep, sprawled out on a mountain of pillows in the soft morning light coming in through the windows. His eyelashes were fanned across his rosy cheeks, his Cupid's bow lips parted and pink as he gently snored, his curls a haloed mess around his face. Slim, pale fingers curled around his belly, even deep in slumber. Harry suddenly began to stir, however, eyes fluttering open as a subtle but sure nudge began to kick at him. "Oh. Oh! Wake up!" he called softly, shaking Louis awake. "One of the babies is saying hello!" This was the first time he'd felt movement from within, and it was utterly surreal as he cupped his belly. "My god."

 

Louis scrambled awake with a muzzy groan, before his eyes shot open. He scrambled over clumsily and carefully, reverently placed his palms flat to Harry's gently curving tummy. They waited a few breathless moments, before Louis’ face crumpled.

 

“I can't feel shit, H! Are you taking the piss?” Louis demanded crankily, and Harry burst into giggles. 

 

“I swear ‘m not, Lou. Dead serious. It's okay, the book said you might not be able to feel it outside the belly for a couple weeks. Sorry. Don't pout,” he laughs affectionately, carefully grabbing his jaw and kissing him. Louis wouldn't talk to him until the next morning. Shithead.

 

~~

 

Of course, when Harry was mid-taking out a lasagne from the oven, was when the babies decided to  _ really  _ kick. He gasped noisily and actually dropped the damn pan, luckily not getting any burning hot lava sauce on himself. “Louis!” he yelped. After hearing such a fucking loud crash and him being called, Louis thundered into the kitchen, looking around in a bit of a blind panic.

 

“Babe?! What's wrong?! Are you okay?” Louis was in a right tizzy, and Harry was almost embarrassed, frankly. But this was important, damn it! 

 

“Louis, c’mere, sorry. Didn't mean to be so dramatic,” Harry muttered, grabbing his wrist and gently tugging him over to place his hand on his belly. “Shush, just. Shush.  _ Feel.”  _ Louis opened his mouth, ready to ask what the hell was happening, no doubt, before freezing as a definite nudge brushed his palm from inside Harry's stomach. 

 

They both waited breathlessly, cheeks flushed and hearts goddamn pounding like racehorses charging down the last leg of the track. Again, another insistent poke, from a fist or foot, and Louis sniffled. Another couple of taps came, somebody stretching their tiny elbow or something into Harry's torso. Louis was in tears already, and Harry followed soon after. Anything vaguely emotional anymore made him blubber like a toddler having a crocodile tear tantrum, unfortunately. 

 

“Oh god,” Louis choked off, eyes wet and cheeks red as he cradled Harry tenderly, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. “Those are our babies, baby. Our goddamn babies! They're so strong… I'm so proud of you.” Louis cleaned up the pasta since Harry wasn't supposed to bend down for long periods anymore, and they ate microwave meals in front of the telly. They didn't care. One cuisine casualty was nothing in the face of their children.

 

~~

 

Yoga became a particular highlight he enjoyed immensely. Harry's already good flexibility became stellar, and he toned up the muscles he was beginning to get from jogging 5 days a week. Every morning was started off by 25 minutes of yoga, followed by a bowl of granola or shredded weetabix with a side of fruit and a glass of OJ or other tropical flavors. Then he'd do a brief warm up and either jog or walk their local pond. Harry loved naming all the ducks and bringing them seed- even though he knew he wasn't  _ really  _ supposed to feed them.

 

The he was back home for a quick shower and getting dressed, before kissing Louis goodbye and going to work. It was a routine that had cemented, and he was happy for it. The beans seemed to like schedule and the tranquility and monotony it brought, since his morning sickness never made another guest appearance. Harry was more than grateful for that blessing. Slowly, his tummy grew rounder, and he was glad he'd started up a weekly photograph to track the changes in his body. 

 

Month 6 brought fresh hormones. Harry was a constantly horny mess of a person for awhile. He’ll admit it. He jumped Louis as often as possible without a care in the goddamn world. They fucked insatiably like horny teenage bunnies for two weeks straight. It was almost dizzying. Harry felt like he was possessed by a bunch of little nymphos, ready to drag his handsome hubby off for a little naughty time whenever and wherever.

 

It was a time of exercise and eating, constantly burning off the calories he consumed- whether by traditional workouts or… more not safe for work means. By month 7, he'd starter to taper into less need for midday trysts. That didn't mean his libido cooled fully, however.

 

Sunlight had yet to peek past the mostly drawn curtains; instead, the moon trailed fingers of silver past the heavy drapes to paint the room in faint hues of shadowy light. It was late, so very, very late- or early, so very, very early- depending on how one looked at it.   


Harry shifted around a little bit more, heaving a quiet sigh as the bed creaked with each tiny movement he made. It wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep, it was his huge swell of a stomach that got him in this predicament. Well, technically it was the lightly throbbing erection he was sporting, but details, details... It really was his babies’ fault, anyway. 

 

If Harry wasn't heavily pregnant (seven months, seven fucking months, Louis just checked it off the calendar yesterday, beaming brightly even when Harry mocked him for trying to keep a schedule on a thus far unpredictable pregnancy- even if he'd had a bit of a cry when Louis gently rubbed his tummy, cooing about how they'd see the Beans in just a few months) then he wouldn't be chock-full of some truly crazy hormones and most certainly would not be horny as fuck at three in the morning. But if he really wanted to blame someone, it was all Louis’ fault, with his wonder sperm that somehow could decode one of Harry’s freaky, scrambled genes and allow him to get bloody preggers with twins.    
  
Harry groaned faintly, smashing his face into the bed and readjusting the stupid pillows under his belly and between his legs. Wasn't he have supposed to have been past this phase already? Mid pregnancy was supposed to be when his libido was at its height, and he'd definitely not been an exception to the rule. He wore Louis out one week near the end and had to chase the dumb wanker around the house, limited by his heavy stomach, but still caught him in the end , finding that Louis was much more willing to play after a sexy wrestling match which Harry rather delightedly lost. Guess all of those insane hormones hadn't completely calmed yet. Fuck.   
  
He dug his nails into the sheets with a low growl as his dick gave a particularly insistent throb, cursing everything in this world and the next. It wasn't like Harry could even properly masturbate anymore, his arms finding it rather difficult to juggle his massive tummy and stroke himself at the same time; plus his giant-ass baby bump was practically a cockblock on its own because it was a bit hard to reach around the damn thing. He sighed unhappily and glared at Louis, at his peaceful face, eyelashes curving gently over his cheek and mouth hanging open slightly as he slumbered. Then, Harry took that innocent sleep and destroyed it by shoving Louis off the bed.    
  
"Whozawhatnow?" Louis yelped, staggering up from the floor with bleary eyes and mussed-up hair. Harry practically purred, half-lidded gaze sweeping up and down his husband's body with a very approving glint.    
  
"Mmmm, Lou, ‘m horny," Harry moaned. "Need you." Louis flushed lightly, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck.   
  
"Oh. Okay," he shrugged lightly and leaned over, rubbing at Harry’s back and shoulder blades. "What do you need, Hazza?" 

 

“Youuuu.”

 

And just like that, Louis was all business; eyes dark with desire, hands curling possessively around Harry’s hips and teeth flashing wetly in the dark as he smirked. Harry gasped softly,  _ how the fuck does he do that? _ , and arched into his touch as best he could.   
  
"I need you in me, please," he moaned faintly, shivering as Louis’ warm hands trailed down and pulled his boxers off an inch at a time. "I've been hard for nearly 20 minutes, Jesus Christ, pleeeaseee," Harry whimpered, his skin's sensitivity at an all time high; every light brush from Louis’ fingers sent shivers down his burdened body. Louis chuckled lowly, slipping Harry's pregnancy boxers off and folding them before setting the pair on the floor. He turned back to his impatient lover and Harry shifted anxiously, swallowing thickly and trying to sit up. Louis helped him, gently positioning him back so he was reclining on the headboard and a few throw pillows.    
  
"I think you look a little.... stressed. Let's fix that, shall we?" Louis chuckled smoothly, rucking his night shirt up, exposing lean abs with a little pooch to the moonlight, before tossing it to the ground. Next went Louis’ boxers, fluttering into a corner to be forgotten. Harry groaned faintly, spreading his legs open and licking his lips, raking his eyes up and down Louis’ fit body with a soft whimper. "God, H, you're so gorgeous like this. Practically panting with want, thighs open like a gift and so fucking filled already." His rough, calloused hands cupped Harry's tummy and he leaned over, whispering sweet little nothings into his bellybutton, voice vibrating the stretched skin and making Harry whine desperately.    
  
"Stop teasing me, fuck! I need you, Lou!" Smiling evilly, Louis slowly ran his fingertips up and across Harry’s chest, circling his nipple until it hardened, then lightly rubbing against the swollen bud. Harry trembled faintly, breath sounding harsh and fast even to his own ears. Stupid pregnancy.

  
"Ah-ah, Harry. No, none of that. You know that your body is just as beautiful as it ever was. Just as sexy. Just as perfect," Louis promised, kissing along the swell of his tummy. "I swear it." Harry’s breath hitched and he squirmed, tears pooling in his eyes. Fucking hormones. Louis gently stroked all the way down his belly to his thighs, teasing him until Harry was gasping in frustrated pleasure, chest heaving and body twitching upwards into his touch. "So sensitive, Baby..." Harry nodded frantically, hiccupping a laugh and digging his nails, delicately painted black, into the sheets.   
  
"Fuck me, Louis, fuck me now. Fuck me so hard, so damn hard. Please. Hard, slow, loving. Make me yours," he pleaded. Louis groaned softly and scrambled for the bedside table, shoving his hand in and emerging with a bottle of lube. He popped the cap hurriedly, pouring some into his palm and closing the container before dropping it. Swallowing back another moan, Louis gently rubbed two slick fingers against Harry's entrance, teasing for a few moments, then slipped the first digit in to the knuckle. Harry tossed his head back, mewling softly for more, cock leaking pre-cum in a steady dribble.   
  
"Oh Harry, Hazza, I love you..." Louis sighed, slowly stretching his lover open before adding another finger, scissoring them until a third could be fit in as well. Harry was a mess by then, writhing as best as he could on the mattress with his stomach weighing him down. Growling at the feeling of Harry’s body clamping rhythmically around his digits, Louis pulled out and crouched between his spread thighs, rubbing the tip of his erection against his hole. "You ready?"    
  
"Please, please, please!" So Louis slid in, a perfect glide into Harry's tight, warm heat. Harry dug his nails into Louis’ shoulderblades, burying his face in the crook of his husband's neck to bite, taste, lick every piece of skin he could reach. "Harder, harder please, make me yours," he moaned desperately, arching into Louis’ steadily increasing thrusts. The man obliged, going deeper and faster, breath panting out as Harry begged for more.    
  
"Oh, come for me, H, I can feel you tightening- you're so close, c'mon, come for me," Louis whispered into his husband's ear with a naughty purr. Harry, ever obedient, bucked up against Louis, painting stripes of cum across the both of them; having orgasmed completely from the feeling of being fucked. Louis tensed, twitching erratically as he spilled his own release deep inside Harry’s body. They collapsed after a long moment of ecstasy and Harry was honestly already half-asleep. Louis smiled as he cleaned up the sticky situation down below and then rubbed both of them down with a damp washcloth, spending a little longer on Harry's belly.   
  
Then they fell asleep, intertwined, Louis’ arms around Harry's more rounded form, both of their hands and fingers laced together over Harry's tummy, feeling their babies stir slightly from within.

 

~~

 

Harry slowly stretched into downwards-facing dog, mindful of the overly large swell of his belly hanging down, causing more stretch and pull on his muscles. He held the position for a full minute, bent into a v with his bum in the air. He was doing his typical yoga routine, trying to relieve what he thought were gas cramps, and carefully lowered himself from the position, not wanting to fall and jar their babies. Harry sighed and swiped his sweaty curls back from his face, a few loose tendrils cascading from his loose, messy bun and hanging in his tired but contented eyes.

 

He sat down and stretched his calves, gently massaging the sore and slightly inflamed muscles, grimacing slightly. Harry fixed his yoga capris, which were trying their best to ride up his belly to his nipples, and then stretched out on his side for his final pose, breathing deeply in and out with his eyes closed. He fell asleep by accident, and didn't stir until Louis emerged from their bedroom, waking with a startled snore and wiping the dribble from his face, pulling a face at the small puddle on his sunshine-colored yoga mat. "Morning," Harry greeted with a yawn. "Couldn't sleep, felt bloated and my tummy hurts again. How're you, love?"

 

Louis shrugged easily, smiling faintly. “Better, now that I'm with you,” he answered simply, and Harry puffed and threw a pillow at him.

 

“Too much snappiness for how early it is, there, darling,” he noted with nothing but amused affection in his tone, although his face briefly contorted into discomfort as another pain went through his abdomen. It didn't… it didn't really feel like gas any longer. Louis paused midway through buttering his toast at the quiet noise of pain Harry couldn't help but make, frown immediately settling on his face as he gave his husband a heavy look of concern. 

 

“Darling- you alright?” Louis asked, abandoning his breakfast as Harry gasped again, half convinced he'd been stabbed, somehow. But no. Just- just his uterus contracting. That was okay. That was fine. Braxton-Hicks had come and gone before. Harry tried his best to ignore the little voice niggling him that said those other brushes with Braxton-Hicks had never felt  _ this _ intense.

 

Louis, of course, naturally knew immediately something was wrong. “H, tell me the truth,” he said warningly, leaving his breakfast and hurrying over to fuss like an old biddy over his husband. “Talk to me. This is serious, isn't it?” Before Harry could even try out a lie, weak as it would be (he was a shit liar, which is why he'd become an excellent avoider), a crippling pain shot through him, and he screamed at the brunt and brutal force of it. Louis didn't wait a second longer. “We’re going to the hospital, right fucking now.”

 

Then, a thick puddle of blood abruptly slicked onto the floor, Harry's face going white from the pain and sudden loss of nutrients. Louis  _ freaked.  _ He called the hospital with one hand while helping Harry up with the other, trembling and anxious as he got his husband and their go-bags into the car. “They're early! And- the blood! Lou!”

 

“Hi, hello, it's Louis Tomlinson-Styles, I'm coming in with my husband Harry,” he muttered tersely into the mobile. “Please be ready, there's a lot of blood and I'm freaking out rather badly.” He hung up and carefully buckled Harry in, trying to make him comfortable and gently hushing him. “We’ll be there in just 10 minutes, sweetheart,” he cooed, gently taking his hand and squeezing it as they drove.

 

“Lou,” Harry whimpered meekly, still freely bleeding, although thankfully not as heavy. Louis squeezed his hand a little more tightly, heart rabbiting in his chest as he shivered anxiously. He ran all the lights they came across, not even giving a flying fuck, although he was careful to check nobody was coming. There were quite a few honks and angrily flipped birds out to play, but god fucking damn it, his hubby was bleeding out.

 

“Here!” Louis exclaimed in shaky triumph, parking on the sidewalk and leaving the keys on the dash as he assisted Harry out of the car and into a wheelchair as soon as he saw one, practically snatching it from the nurse with a growl. “He's bleeding and pregnant with twins,” Louis bit out at the receptionist. “Please, get him help,” he pleaded desperately, Harry crying freely as he dripped blood onto the sterile, white floor tiles.

 

Several nurses descended upon them and took over control of Harry's wheelchair, quickly getting him into a room and onto a bed as Louis followed, clutching at their go-bag nervously. He was so flustered and upset, looking at Harry's teary, red face, clearly overwhelmed with pain. 

 

“Why- why am I bleeding?” he asked weakly. “Are the babies okay?” Harry whimpered, as a doctor came in swiftly and immediately went between his legs. Harry twitched and grunted in pain, clearly agonized, but toughed it out as Louis watched on in growing fear.

 

“Placental abruption. The babies are coming  _ now.  _ For their safety and yours,” the doctor reassured soothingly. “However, they are stable and seem to be doing okay. You'll be able to deliver normally. You're already almost fully dilated. Get ready to push, okay?”

 

Harry whimpered and powered through a few more contractions, the doctor watching with eagle eyes at the heart beat monitor on both Harry and the babies. “Okay, Harry, you've done amazingly. Just a little more to go,” he said gently, as Louis gave him encouraging hand squeezes and soft words of love.

 

It took a lot of pain, screaming, crying, and sweat, but Harry birthed the first baby, a cute little girl, very small but happy and pink-cheeked. She screeched like a banshee, which made Harry start crying again, so pleased to be able to hear how full of life she was. The second one scared them, came out completely silent and even smaller than her twin. The doctor picked her up immediately after cutting her cord, rubbing her briskly and then slapping her bum. She stirred with a weak cry, which a nurse coaxed into an actual cry as they weighed her. Harry was able to hold them just a moment before they whisked them off to NICU, getting them set up in the preemie ward and settled in.  

 

They helped clean Harry up and sort him out before allowing him to be wheeled to visit the baby girls (which Harry and Louis quietly decided during a moment of rest to name Lilian and Willow) and Harry happily cradled his twins close to his skin, smiling exhaustedly at Louis as his husband crowded close. He felt so happy, his heart so full. Harry had never been so content in his life. Everything has changed- for the better by far.

 

~~

 

The twins got to come home in a few short weeks, both now up to a healthy weight- although Lillie was marginally bigger and the doctors told Harry and Louis she likely would always be until toddlerhood. The first month was insane. With two young babies, nobody got any sleep. It was a constant rotational cycle of bottle feeding, naps, nappy-changing, a brief shower after the stench of spit-up was unbearable, then exhausted ‘sleep’ since it was only a few precious hours until the cycle repeated.

 

It was so worth it though. Harry would be lying nonstop if he ever tried to claim it wasn't. It was exhausting, rough, he smelled and, god,  _ tasted  _ things he never wanted to- but. Parenthood suited him, suited  _ Louis.  _ Lillie and Willow would have the most dedicated Pop and Daddy that ever would be. Their future was bright, and Harry didn't give a shit about any of the bad stuff in the meantime. His life was complete. 

 


End file.
